quiet birthdays and creamy cakes

pink green and yellow ribbon illustration
Photo by Ylanite Koppens on Pexels.com

When you are eight you dream of mountains

Of presents wrapped in glitzy paper,

A bike with a voluminous bow on the handlebars

And a cake in the shape of Ed the Duck.

When you are eighteen you just wish for booze,

A night on the tiles, with shots and kebabs

And on the the age of twenty eight

Where things are a bit quieter, and you ask

For some sensible clothes for work

And boots and a rain jacket too.

Now I’m heading to forty, just two years to go –

And I think most people have forgotten

But now I take pleasure in the small things,

Some books from the charity shop

And a cake topped with strawberries and cream.

Thirty eight seemed so old, but now

It seems so wonderfully full.

I turned thirty eight today and I knew it was going to be a bit of a wash out because we’re all recovering from COVID and dad’s off on a trip with his friends.

However, I did venture out to the supermarket and so I also hit Matalan and the charity shops to get books and sensible trousers for work.

I had to smile at myself because I felt wonderfully happy and content. When I was drinking, I always wanted fireworks and crazy highs and having a bit of a naff birthday would have resulted in a meltdown where I blamed everyone around me for not loving me enough.

Today, I’m here with a Mug Shot cheesy pasta, Strictly Come Dancing and a strawberries and cream cake from Tesco, and it feels like me cup is half full.

I’m just hoping that when dad arrives tomorrow that he’s going to take me for a cheeky Nandos – then my cup will be overflowing.

Much Love

Rachel xx